


The Card

by mmouse15



Series: Love in Small Steps [3]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-27
Updated: 2008-05-27
Packaged: 2019-02-01 22:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12713898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmouse15/pseuds/mmouse15
Summary: In May of 2008, the ProwlxJazz community on Livejournal had a challenge, where touch and six fabrics were the prompts. Each story in the series is one of the fabrics. This is lace.





	The Card

Title: The Card (Lace)  
Series: Love in Small Steps  
By: mmouse15  
Rating: PG  
Word Count: 1600  
Pairing: Prowl/Jazz  
Author's Notes: For reference, please see [here.](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lace)  
This is entry #3 for the May 08 challenge on the ProwlxJazz comm on LJ.

 

Prowl glared at the screen in front of him. Jazz had been behaving suspiciously for the past Earth week, and Prowl was ready to confront him about his behavior. His love had just entered the Ark, and given his secretive behavior Prowl would need to waylay him. He left the control room, intent upon catching Jazz before the saboteur could reach his quarters. He was not surprised to be waylaid by Sunstreaker and Sideswipe and dealt with them by making an appointment for the following morning. Many of the mechs aboard the Ark had been helping Jazz escape from him, so he was expecting such delaying tactics. He made it to the common room where he was stopped by the one mech he didn't dare brush off: Optimus Prime.  
"Excellent, Prowl, I was just coming to get you. Ironhide reports a situation that we need to address immediately. Shall we?" Optimus made a motion with his hand to indicate the direction for Prowl to go. The tactician mentally shrugged. He would have to catch Jazz later, but catch him he would.

Jazz was relieved. Thank Primus for all the help he was getting from everyone in the Ark to complete his project. Hoist, Ironhide, Trailbreaker and Grapple were helping move a larger berth into his and Prowl's new quarters and removing the old one. Red Alert had helped Jazz figure out where a new room that would accommodate both Jazz and Prowl would be, then other mechs had helped clean out the room and move new berths, desks, and chairs into the new quarters. Jazz was nervous about asking Prowl to live with him, but he was tired of never having down time with Prowl. He wanted to be around him as much as possible and he felt that living in the same rooms was the next step in their relationship.  
"Thar ya are, Jazz. All neat and tidy. Now I gotta go help Optimus keep Prowl away." Ironhide told him as he ushered the others out. Jazz looked around, using a cloth to dust off Prowl's new desk. He then went to his desk and pulled out a package, large and flat, and laid it in the center of Prowl's desk. The Porsche then checked his stereo system to be certain that the music he wanted was loaded up, took a final look around, and exited. He moved down the hall to his soon-to-be old quarters and entered them.

Prowl stalked down the halls toward his quarters. Internally, he was fuming. Ironhide had joined them after a breem, and they had spent the time going over an old site that Megatron had used. Ironhide swore that the 'Cons had been spotted around that area again. Prowl wasn't quite as certain, but had gamely gone along with the old warrior. Now he wanted to confront Jazz, and woe betide the mech that got in his way. Entering the final hallway, he stopped in front of Jazz's door and pressed the button to request entry.  
"C'mon in!" rang out Jazz's cheery voice. The door slid aside and Prowl entered.  
"Jazz, we need to talk," Prowl said this very sternly. Jazz's optics widened and a look of panic crossed his face. Prowl stepped forward and put his hands on Jazz's shoulders. "What are you doing?"  
"What do you mean?" Jazz tentatively brought his hands up to rest on Prowl's waist.  
"Jazz, you are up to something, and I want to know what it is. I'm responsible for the smooth running of this army and whatever it is you've been up to is interfering with operations. I can not…" He stopped as Jazz covered his mouth with a hand and laughing weakly, leaned his forehead against Prowl's chest. After a few moments, the Porsche lifted his head and laughed harder, but with a note of hysteria in the laugh that worried the tactician.  
"The look on your face, Prowl." Jazz visibly brought himself under control. "Hm. Sorry 'bout that. Look, when you came in here like that, I sure thought…" He stopped, uncertainly.  
"You thought what?" Prowl asked gently.  
Jazz stepped away. "I thought you were going to break up with me."  
"Break up with you? What does that mean?" The Datsun was puzzled.  
"Breaking up is an Earth term for severing the relationship. I thought that's why you looked so stern."  
Prowl looked closer at Jazz. The Porsche was trembling slightly, and Prowl could feel the tension emanating from his frame. He stepped next to the saboteur and framed his face, then leaned down and kissed him slowly, sweetly, keeping a gentle grasp on Jazz's face.  
"I would sever my own arm before I gave you up, Jazz."  
Jazz gasped and the kiss changed into something hot and dark as the saboteur deepened the kiss and started moving his hands over the tactician's body. After a time, Prowl started to lighten the kiss, slowly withdrawing until he could wrap Jazz in a hug. The saboteur buried his face in Prowl's shoulder, clinging to him.  
"Jazz. I had no idea you were not confident about our relationship." Prowl stroked his hands over the Porsche's back soothingly.  
Jazz buried his face deeper in Prowl's shoulder and muttered, "How'm I supposed to know when you don't talk to me?"  
"I just assumed that you were as confident as I am." The tactician told him.  
Jazz reared back and looked him in the optics. "You're confident?! I didn't know."  
Prowl sighed. "I'm sorry. I just…"  
"Assumed I was as confident as I appeared?"  
"Yes."  
"I'm not."  
"I'm starting to understand that." Prowl continued to stroke Jazz's back, soothing the trembling saboteur.  
Jazz leaned back in his embrace and told him, "I would give you everything that I am. I love you. You're the only mech for me. And, Prowl, I tell you that every day. But I don't…you don't…"  
"I don't say it to you."  
"No."  
"But, Jazz, I'm with you. I spend my time with you, I recharge with you, what more do you want?"  
"The words, Prowl. They matter, too." Jazz told him.  
"But…doesn't Spike say that actions speak louder than words?" queried the tactician, genuinely confused.  
Jazz laughed, brokenly. "Not…not for matters of the Spark, Prowler. The words mean something."  
Prowl hummed thoughtfully. "I thought…well, it doesn't matter. I was obviously wrong." He continued to hug Jazz. A long while later, Jazz gently pulled free of the embrace and looked Prowl in the optics.  
"Do you want to know what I've been doing now?"  
"Yes, please."

Prowl looked around the room. Two desks on one side of the room, one much smaller than the other. Shelves above the desks and some familiar datapads over the larger desk. A couch facing an entertainment center, a table in front of the couch and two chairs flanking it, an energon dispenser tucked in a corner. Jazz led him to the other room, and there was a berth large enough for two mechs. A corner of the room had been walled off to make a small private wash rack. Jazz's velvet blanket was folded across one side of the berth.  
"Everyone's helped. This used to be two separate rooms, and Hoist and Grapple figured out how to remove part of the wall. Wheeljack and Perceptor piped in the cleanser for the shower and no, it won't explode. Ironhide found the berth in a storage room and arranged to get it in here. And everyone helped keep you away from the doings." Jazz explained.  
Prowl finally asked, "Why?"  
Jazz led him to the front room and indicated the package on the desk. "Open that, please."  
Prowl looked askance, but moved to pick up the flat package. He puzzled over the closure for a moment, then swiftly opened it and removed a large piece of heavy paper, cut into an odd shape and folded in half. It had some fabric around the edges. He looked to Jazz for guidance. The saboteur stepped forward and unfolded the paper. In beautifully written Cybertronian glyphs were the words 'Prowl, I love you. Jazz.'  
"What is it?" The tactician finally asked.  
Jazz laughed. "It's a valentine. On Earth, they exchange these once a year to show their love to someone."  
"I thought Valentine's Day was a couple of months ago?"  
"It was, but Carly told me that declarations of love didn't need to wait for that one day, and if I wanted to give you a Valentine's card, she'd help me. She taught me to do this," he indicated the fabric, "It's called lace and I made it."  
"You made it? How?" Prowl fingered the lace carefully, seeing the evenness of the weave and marveling that his love had taken the time to make something so beautiful.  
"I'll tell you later. It's called tatting. It was fun to do. Sunny helped me with the glyphs, his calligraphy is gorgeous, and Spike helped me find paper large enough."  
"Jazz, I'm…overwhelmed. Why did you do all of this?" Prowl asked.  
Jazz faced him and wound their fingers together. "Prowl. I love you. Will you live with me?"  
"Oh."  
Jazz waited patiently as Prowl ran through all the scenarios and finally gave a real answer. "Yes, Jazz, I will."  
"Right answer, my mech." Jazz moved and kissed him.


End file.
